The Maddening Mayhem of Love
by ilovetvalot
Summary: Set post-ep for "Penelope". In the wake of near tragedy, David Rossi realizes that love might be residing underneath his nose. Rossi/Garcia
1. Chapter 1

**_Author's Note_**_: We're excited to announce our Round 3 of our Fanfic Challenge on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. The **Dealer's Choice August Challenge** is a great way to stretch your writing muscles! Please see the forum for further details. We'd love to have you! And please visit the forum to read our latest interviews with the simply amazing **SussiRay and cmfanbex**! And please join our newest discussion threads, **"What's on Your Bookshelf"** where readers tell us about the published books and authors that inspire them, **"The Art of the Well-Crafted** **Author's Note...To Write or Not To Write", **and finally, **"What Fuels Our Drive to Write?"**. Please drop by and check them out. And lastly, please keep our fellow authors, **Angel N Darkness** and **Darcie91 **within your prayers. Both ladies have been in serious accidents and have separate discussion threads where readers and authors alike may leave their best wishes! That's all for this time folks! Thanks to all who have read, reviewed, favorited or alerted our stories. We continue to appreciate each one of you!_

**The Maddening Mayhem of Love**

**Chapter 1**

Penelope Garcia was a happy creature by nature. Loving, loyal, and giving to a fault. The BAU's own personal ray of sunshine amidst the gloom and doom they faced daily. It hadn't taken him a week back in the unit he'd helped to create to realize that simple truth.

And, despite that knowledge, he'd fucked up. Royally.

His intentions had been good. After all, that ray of light had been obviously dimmed by a bullet careening into her chest. His only goal had been to find the man that had tried to prematurely dull the light forever and punish him.

He just hadn't realized that his methods would have such a lasting effect on Penelope Garcia.

She looked at him these days with something akin to embarrassment, tinged with just this side of vitriol. He supposed he deserved it. He had been more than a little forceful in his interrogation of her and her routine. But hell, she'd had a great big bulls-eye painted on her back at the time, and he'd been willing to do anything to remove the target.

Now, weeks later, he wanted to see that bright smile aimed in his direction again. He couldn't explain to himself or anyone else why it was so important to him. How could he find the words to do so when wasn't sure himself?

But, as he'd watched her curvaceous body hustling away from him once again, he resolved that he'd find a way to make amends.

Stopping beside Derek Morgan's messy desk, he spared the younger man a quick, assessing look. It was no secret that Morgan and Garcia were unlikely best friends. And the younger agent's steadfast protective attitude had made an indelible appearance in the form of the beefy black man's fist connecting with his jaw after he'd finished questioning Penelope that long ago night. But, hopefully, knowing that he wanted to make peace with the self-proclaimed Oracle of Quantico would sway the other man to his side.

"Hey," he said, clearing his throat as he casually rested a hand on Morgan's desk, a single knuckle rapping against the wood. Waiting until the black man lifted a wary gaze in his direction, David Rossi said softly, "I need your help."

"You sure I'm the one you want to ask for a favor, man?" Derek retorted smoothly, leaning back in his chair as he gazed at Rossi. Forgiveness wasn't a concept he'd ever been comfortable with. Especially when it involved someone that had shaken his best friend as badly as the legend in front of him had rattled his Baby Girl.

"I'm thinking that if anybody can help me with this, it's you, Morgan," Dave shrugged, allowing himself this moment of vulnerabilty. "I need to broker peace with Garcia. I might have been out of line last month."

"Might have been?" Morgan echoed incredulously, his eyes narrowing in condemnation. "You tried to rip her to pieces, man."

"I was trying to keep her ass alive, Morgan," Dave corrected with a voice laced in steel, unwilling to back down from his original intentions. "And in case you missed it, we succeeded," he murmured, nodding toward the retreating back of Penelope Garcia. A very much alive, talking, and walking Penelope Garcia.

"You treated her like a criminal, Rossi. Like one of those pieces of shit we hunt," Morgan growled, his fist clenching as he pounded it softly against the arm of his chair.

"I got us the answers that we needed at the time, Morgan," Rossi countered. "Something that none of the rest of you were willing to do at the time. And it worked," he added flatly, his shoulders squaring slightly.

"Maybe," Morgan admitted grudgingly.

"Look, you got in your requisite punch, Derek," Rossi said softly, meeting the other man's dark flashing eyes. "You've already had your shot at me. Garcia needs the same chance. Hopefully, she won't hit as hard."

"She won't hit you. Period," Derek replied unenthusiastically, frowning at the thought of a lack of physical violence from his pacifist friend. "You scared her, asshole."

"Scared her?" Dave parroted, shocked. Hell, he knew he could terrify an unsub into submission, but the thought of scaring the young fun-loving Garcia turned his stomach. She was meant to be surrounded by happy faces and swirling clouds of fluff, not dreaded puffs of fear and dismal thoughts.

"Dude, did you even hear yourself that night? Nobody talks to Pen like that. Nobody. And not just because they would meet with my right hook, either. That woman is lethal when provoked. The only reason you haven't felt her wrath is because she thinks she had it coming. Which, by the way," Morgan added with a piercing look, his voice lined with lead, "she did not. At least, not the way YOU did it."

Fuck! No other thoughts could filter through his mind just then other than finding a way to undo what had been done.

"How do I make it right, Derek?" Rossi asked, truly ashamed of himself. Hell, he hadn't felt this guilty since the Monsignor had found him drinking whiskey in the back vestibule of the church when he was sixteen.

Seeing the genuine horror flashing in the senior agent's eyes, Morgan took mercy on the elder man. Shrugging, he offered, "She likes sparkly things. Or techno gadgets. Or an honest to God apology from a man that isn't known for passing them out."

"Crap," Dave groaned. His least favorite activity on earth was eating freaking crow. And it looked like now that he was going to baking up the tough old bird in a casserole to munch on for days.

"She likes you, Rossi," Morgan confided softly as he leaned forward. "But, more important than that, she trusts you. And believe it or not, she doesn't sincerely trust many people."

"And I violated that trust by the way I approached her," Dave extrapolated, shaking his head as he once again replayed those moments in her mind.

"She just didn't see it coming, Rossi. You calling her out in front of the entire team...it mortified her," Morgan explained. "Penelope tries to hide how soft her center is behind a mask. She dresses herself up in bright colors and outlandish outfits, but underneath it all is a painfully shy woman that just wants people to accept her for who she is. Good and bad. She thinks you only see the bad."

"That's not true," Dave retorted, his eyes widening under the weight of that revelation as he literally leaned back on his heels.

"Then you need to tell her that," Morgan replied. "And make her believe it. Like I said, Mama likes you. Between you and me, I think there might be a bit of hero worship goin' on. And maybe," he said, leaning forward to mock whisper, "a little crush, too."

Flushing, Dave shifted on his feet as he looked away, suddenly wondering if the central heating and air system had gone on the fritz once again.

"Oh, he-llll," Morgan chortled suddenly, his grin growing by the second. "Maybe that crush goes both ways," he teased, reclining in his chair and putting his hands behind his head.

"Shut up, Morgan," Dave muttered, dropping his hands in his pockets as he glared at the grinning agent, turning quickly on his heel to escape the man's knowing eyes.

"Hey, Rossi!" Morgan called as the older man began to walk away.

"What?" Dave asked, pausing to look over his shoulder, still anxious to find a way to find a way back into the good graces of Penelope Garcia.

"Just remember, man, I can hit a lot harder," Derek said, quirking a brow at the known legend and affixing him with a hard look.

"Noted," Dave inclined his head.

And turning, Dave quickly made his way back to his office. He had a plan to pull together.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Author's Note_**_: We're excited to announce our Round 3 of our Fanfic Challenge on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. The **Dealer's Choice August Challenge** is a great way to stretch your writing muscles! Please see the forum for further details. We'd love to have you! And please visit the forum to read our latest interviews with the simply amazing **Michaela123 and Cinnyangel!** And please join our newest discussion threads, **"What's on Your Bookshelf"** where readers tell us about the published books and authors that inspire them, **"The Art of the Well-Crafted** **Author's Note...To Write or Not To Write", **and finally, **"What Fuels Our Drive to Write?"**. Please drop by and check them out. And lastly, please keep our fellow authors, **Angel N Darkness** and **Darcie91 **within your prayers. Both ladies have been in serious accidents and have separate discussion threads where readers and authors alike may leave their best wishes! That's all for this time folks! Thanks to all who have read, reviewed, favorited or alerted our stories. We continue to appreciate each one of you!_

**The Maddening Mayhem of Love**

**Chapter Two**

Three days later, David Rossi, a known Romeo of women across the nation and around the world, stood staring warily at the closed door of Penelope Garcia's celebrated kingdom. Music blared inside, something moody and melancholy in nature. Frowning, Dave glanced down into the decorated box he held.

Okay, he might have gone overboard, heeding Derek Morgan's advice. But, if he hadn't accomplished anything else, he'd managed to make three women in two different boutiques and the clerk at his local Radio shack very happy by singlehandedly guaranteeing them all large commissions. Sparkly objects and gizmos abounded.

Although, he had a feeling that none of the material things he held in his box would do the trick on the woman in question. No, the sweet soul inside her office would only want one thing. And even he wasn't so dense that he couldn't recognize that. But, perhaps the baubles would grease the wheels of her altruistic nature and loosen those heartstrings.

God, he hoped so.

He debated simply marching inside like the rest of his teammates were prone to do. In and out. But, he wasn't stupid either. He knew that he was still labeled as persona non grata in the eyes of the technological guru. Hopefully, he could change that today, though.

The conversation he'd had with Morgan had haunted him for three nights. Tortured him, really, if he was honest with himself. Because, while thoughts about the lovely woman waiting just inside the door had tempted him during his months back at the BAU, the visions that had haunted his dreams over the last few nights had sent him into more than one ice cold shower.

She wasn't even his type! She was years younger than him, and yet he knew the generation gap was the least of his worries. He'd been with younger women before. Wife number two had been his junior by twenty years. But he'd never attempted a relationship with someone so open...so accessible and friendly.

He liked his women cultured and sophisticated, didn't he? It was his modus operandi. Damn it! This bewitching paragon had tied him in knots and she wasn't even aware of her allure.

He wasn't sure what virtue it was about her that had enthralled him. Her pure spirit, her generous nature...her luscious curves? Who knew? But the powerful collaboration of all those unique qualities that made her who she was had captivated him completely. And thanks to Morgan's comments, now visions of what could be wouldn't leave him alone. When he was awake he plotted how to win her friendship back , and while he slept, his overactive mind created all kinds of X-rated scenarios to tempt and torment him with.

Damn it. He was so screwed. And not in that really great way that he liked so much. That way, his libido maliciously reminded him, that he hadn't felt in more months than he wanted to count.

Maybe that was the problem...maybe this attraction was manufactured by his current lack of a sex life. Problem was…. he'd had opportunities. The cute owner of a bookstore where he'd done a reading last week had done everything but draw him a diagram of what she'd have liked to do with him. And nothing. Nada. Zilch. His flag hadn't even risen to half mast attention.

Yet, when Penelope had nervously dropped the files she'd held in her hands in the middle of the busy bullpen just yesterday, all systems had been a go the moment she had bent over. Fully functional and ready for a drive.

Double damn it!

Stiffening his shoulders as he heard footsteps coming toward him, he cringed as he heard a familiar feminine voice drawl, "Loitering isn't usually your style, Rossi."

Turning, Dave grimaced as he found JJ and Morgan standing side by side in front of him. Son of a bitch! Was there any such thing as privacy inside these hallowed walls anymore? "JJ. Morgan," he said evenly, nodding to both of them. "Something I can do for you?" he asked, cursing as he felt an uncharacteristic flush climbing his cheeks.

"Awww, he's blushing," Morgan chortled, pointing at Dave's face with a gleeful finger. "Look, Jayje!"

"I know a place where they'd never find your body, Derek," Rossi warned grimly as JJ hooked her finger around the cardboard box he held and pulled it toward her.

"Oooohhhh," JJ enthused, reaching her hand in to finger a silk neon pink scarf encrusted with diamond-like appliqué, "Sparkly! She'll love that," JJ nodded approvingly, glancing up at Dave. "You know our girl's tastes well. Impressive."

"He had help," Morgan complained, grunting as JJ's elbow made contact with his rock-hard stomach.

"Did you two have something you needed or did you just show up here to torture me for shits and giggles?" Dave asked, straight-faced.

"He came for the shits and giggles," JJ said, jerking her head toward Morgan with a smile. "I came because Garcie is my best friend and I have a tiny warning for you," she informed the older agent pleasantly.

"A warning," Dave repeated cautiously, resisting the urge to back up a step under the force of her lethal gaze. He'd never been a coward, but some indefinable feeling told him that Jennifer Jareau could be a force to be reckoned with if crossed.

"A friendly warning," JJ nodded genially. "We all know your rep, Rossi," she informed his sweetly as she cocked her blonde head.

"My rep?" he echoed, feeling like he had somehow been transported into an alternate universe.

"Of course, Romeo. But if you screw with that woman in there," she threatened, nodding toward the door behind him, "and mess with her already confused head, I feel it only fair to warn you that while you might know where to hide the bodies, I know how to make them into fertilizer. One of the fringe benefits of growing up on a farm," she shrugged sweetly. "Now, are we clear?" she asked, tilting her head and smiling serenely.

"Crystal," Dave nodded, slightly impressed with the younger woman's well-placed threats. Christ, he worked with a bloodthirsty lot, he thought in amazement.

"Good," JJ nodded, patting his arm consolingly. "Now, beyond that, you should know that Garcia is a wonderful woman and after what you've been with in your colorful past, a gift from the gods."

"I'm realizing that," Dave murmured, tightening his hold on the box in front of him.

"Those won't impress her," JJ said bluntly, nodding toward the box. "She'll appreciate it. But, it won't impress her. Material things don't do a thing for her."

"Good to know," Dave murmured, barely resisting the urge to run screaming around the hallways.

"And, if it helps you at all," JJ said, staring him in the eye, "I know she wants you."

Shocked at the sudden revelation, Dave gaped. "How do you..."

Holding up a hand, JJ wagged a finger underneath his nose. "A woman never tells. Just go talk to her. And try not to be your usual self," she advised with a wink.

Watching as JJ grabbed Morgan's arm, dragging him back down the hallway in her wake, David Rossi shook his head. When the hell had the agents in this place gotten so goddamned scary?


	3. Chapter 3

**_Author's Note_**_: We're excited to announce our Round 3 of our Fanfic Challenge on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. The **Dealer's Choice August Challenge** is a great way to stretch your writing muscles! Please see the forum for further details. We'd love to have you! And please visit the forum to read our latest interviews with the simply amazing **Michaela123 and Cinnyangel!** And please join our newest discussion threads, **"What's on Your Bookshelf"** where readers tell us about the published books and authors that inspire them, **"The Art of the Well-Crafted** **Author's Note...To Write or Not To Write", **and finally, **"What Fuels Our Drive to Write?"**. Please drop by and check them out. And lastly, please keep our fellow authors, **Angel N Darkness** and **Darcie91 **within your prayers. Both ladies have been in serious accidents and have separate discussion threads where readers and authors alike may leave their best wishes! That's all for this time folks! Thanks to all who have read, reviewed, favorited or alerted our stories. We continue to appreciate each one of you!_

**The Maddening Mayhem of Love**

**Chapter Three**

As the moody strains of Sarah McLachlan singing about possession filled her tiny corner of the universe, Penelope Garcia sighed morosely, the sound obvious inside her cozy office. Old Sarah didn't have shit on how she felt right now though. Possessed was a mild euphemism for how she currently felt.

Consumed was a much better word.

Consumed with thoughts of a deviously handsome, dark-eyed Lothario. Who, incidentally, had proven that she had all the regard of a garden slug in his world a few short weeks ago. Every day, she relived those tense moments when his eyes had bored into hers, drilling into her soul with their intensity. His rough, angry voice still echoed inside her fragile ears. Her finger tips could still feel the harsh upholstery of her chair where she had clenched the arms tightly. In the moments of silence when her mind fought the darkness, her stomach would still clench in horror when she remembered his angry gaze.

Recovery from the actual gunshot wound itself had been easy. It would take far longer for her soul to find such relief.

She'd lost his respect with her hasty actions. He assumed she'd been deliberately hiding things from the team. And that had never been her intention. The only thing she'd ever wanted to do was to protect those nearest and dearest to her. When had that become such a crime?

But he didn't know that. He didn't understand that sentiment, that desire to shield others from the horrors. Mostly, she believed, because he expected the worst from everyone he came in contact with.

She knew his history, both the public dossier and the private information that had taken some of her more inventive skills to ascertain. So, she also knew that David Rossi had been escorted to the proverbial cleaners more than once in his notorious life. It wasn't uncommon for those people he'd invested his time and love in to disappoint him. From the ex-wives that had made his private life public fodder to the unscrupulous public relations agents that had attempted to pad their own pockets at his expense, Rossi had experienced the worst of the worst. And that wasn't even including the various and sundry outlaws, criminal and bureaucratic alike, who had chosen to take their bites out of his proverbial hide.

Of course he thought the worst of her. In his shoes, with his experiences, she would, too.

Leaning her head back against the leather cushion of her chair and twirling slowly, Penelope silently groaned. Why? Of all the silver tongued men in all of the world, why did it have to be this one that caused her heart to beat uncontrollably? Why did it have to be the rich timbre of HIS voice that made her internal organs want to spontaneously combust? Why was it HIS dark, devil-may-care looks that caused her to quiver with excitement and drool with lust as soon as he turned his back on her? Why in the name of all that was holy and sacred had she been afflicted with HIM?

Life would have been so much simpler if she'd just fallen for Morgan. At least with him, she would have stood a fighting chance. She knew that man's soft underbelly, his ins and outs, his idiosyncrasies. She could have found a way to create that happiness, couldn't she?

But no. She had to let herself tumble over the edge into the unbearable heaviness of unrequited love.

By all accounts, she was everything David Rossi had never been attracted to. Outspoken, vibrant...full-figured. She'd seen the pictures of all his former flames when she'd been doing her research… and Twiggy, she definitely was NOT.

Despite the obvious differences between her physique and that of his average paramour, there was also the discrepancy in personalities. For whatever reason, Rossi tended to lean toward the pretty and ornamental, yet undeniably empty, packages. Attractive, sure. But there was no substance at all to them. She, on the other hand, had opinions about everything. And she wasn't shy about sharing them.

Jerking her head up as she heard a soft knock on the door, Penelope frowned. Nobody, save Strauss, ever knocked, her open door policy well-known throughout the units she worked with. And honestly, she really wasn't up for a tete-a-tete with the head bitch in charge today. But what could she do? Play not at home? The woman had access to the security cameras, didn't she?

Giving the notion momentary consideration, she shook her head as she dragged herself from her comfortable throne. The old bat would simply turn her attention on some other unfortunate soul. Like her boss. And after everything Hotch had done to help her, that certainly wouldn't be the way she should repay his kindness. No, better to take the bullet. This time, figuratively.

Standing in front of the closed door, Garcia closed her eyes for a moment. Was it possible to will an evil presence back into the Great Abyss? If she managed to scrounge up a crucifix and some holy water, would it work through the steel door or would she need to come face to face with the demonic force? Could a soul sucker even get indigestion? Cracking one lid as the determined hand fell against the wood again, she crinkled her nose. Evidently not.

Girding her loins as she reached for the brass knob, Penelope Garcia felt a slow shiver creep down her spine, the hairs on the back of her neck rising as her body tingled. Dropping her hand away, she cocked her head at the sudden sensation. Not exactly unease…simply a primal awareness. Something that told her that it wasn't the esteemed Section Chief waiting for her on the other side of the wide door. And it was that odd feeling that made her voice ring out, "Who is it?"

"It's Dave, Penelope," Rossi's masculine voice forcefully announced through the solid door. "Let me in. We need to talk."

And staring ahead with horrified widened eyes, one thought pervaded Penelope Garcia's carefully constructed world.

What fresh hell was this?


	4. Chapter 4

**_Author's Note_**_: We're excited to announce our Round 3 of our Fanfic Challenge on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. The **Dealer's Choice August Challenge** is a great way to stretch your writing muscles! Please see the forum for further details. We'd love to have you! And please visit the forum to read our latest interviews with the simply amazing **peagoose 6, Sangreal7, Michaela123 and Cinnyangel!** And please join our newest discussion threads, **"What's on Your Bookshelf"** where readers tell us about the published books and authors that inspire them, **"The Art of the Well-Crafted** **Author's Note...To Write or Not To Write", **and finally, **"What Fuels Our Drive to Write?"**. Please drop by and check them out. And lastly, please keep our fellow authors, **Angel N Darkness** and **Darcie91 **within your prayers. Both ladies have been in serious accidents and have separate discussion threads where readers and authors alike may leave their best wishes! That's all for this time folks! Thanks to all who have read, reviewed, favorited or alerted our stories. We continue to appreciate each one of you!_

**The Maddening Mayhem of Love**

**Chapter Four **

What fresh hell was this?

She'd been reduced to Shakespearean quotes. But it was fitting. Because standing just a few feet from her was her own personal version of the Devil.

A mouthwateringly sexy Italian Devil.

And suddenly all she could think of was how hot he could make her burn.

"Garcia?" Rossi called again, his tone filled with just enough worry and irritation to propel her foreward.

"Just a second," she answered quickly, pressing a hand to her pounding chest. Crap! What the hell did he want now? Oh, hell, what the hell did the Devil always want, she thought bitterly. Another piece of her soul, of course. Shaking her head quickly in an attempt to clear her muddled thoughts, her hand shakily reached for the door's handle again. One thing among many that David Rossi was known for was his impatience. And she'd already kept him waiting a full two minutes.

Opening the door with force, Penelope forced herself to smile tightly. "A-agent Rossi. To what do I owe this unscheduled pleasure?"

"We need to talk," Dave said seriously, barging past her as he lead the way with the box in his hands, dropping it on her desk with a resounding thunk.

"What's that?" Penelope asked, closing the door and following him to her desk, the cardboard box now displayed prominently in the middle of her latest batch of agency forms.

"Take a look," Dave shrugged, stuffing a hand in his jeans' pocket as he fought to control his pounding heart.

Peering over the edge, Garcia bit back a smile at the bounty. Raising one perfectly manicured eyebrow, she asked, "You brought me a box o'bribes?"

"The Indians called them peace offerings," Dave corrected mildly, staring at her with soft eyes.

Snorting, Penelope tipped her head to look up at him curiously, "Do you know what happened to the Indians any time they took a gift from the White Man? Because as I recall, their land got stolen and they got massacred."

Wincing at her descriptive analysis, Dave acknowledged, raising his two hands in supplication, "Okay, that analogy left a lot to be desired, but I come in peace."

"I'm willing to bet more than one Red Man heard those famous last words from more than one Paleface," Pen mumbled, reaching in the box to finger one of the vividly colorful silk scarves resting inside. Damn it, she thought suddenly, she couldn't be swayed by these baubles. Could she?

"Okay, Penelope," Dave sighed, taking as step foreward, "we're not trying to settle the Wild West here. I just want to clear the air. I need to do something I don't have a lot of experience with and I'm gonna need you to show me a small measure of that mercy you're known for and help me out."

"Not sure I can help you with that, Agent Rossi," Garcia said doubtfully, shaking her head, crossing her arms over her chest. "My reserves are running pretty low these days," she added pointedly.

"Thanks in large part to me...or so I've been told," Dave said quietly, tilting his head to the side as he met her saddened eyes.

Stiffening, Penelope jerked her gaze to Dave. "Which pig's been squealing?"

"Nobody squealed, Penelope. I simply asked a few well placed questions regarding your avoidance of my very presence within your airspace these days."

"I haven't been avoiding you," Pen lied quickly as her cheeks heated, her fingers wriggling uncontrollably. "I've just been busy."

"You do realize that I'm a profiler, right?" Dave snorted, leaning against her desk and crossing his arms across his chest. "I can spot a lie at twenty paces."

"You need your eyesight checked then," Penelope retorted, lifting a ruby red jeweled blackberry from the box on her desk and examining it with a dispassionate eye in order to avoid the stare scrutinizing her.

"My vision is fine...at least when it's not colored by fear and concern," Dave clarified, watching her expressive face closely. "Or by a very beautiful woman that has spent more time on my mind than I'm comfortable admitting," Dave added softly, the words coming quicker than he thought they would.

"Wh-what?" Penelope stuttered, lifting astonished eyes to the older man as her nerveless fingers dropped another electronic doodad back into the box.

"Don't make me repeat that," Dave ordered gently. "I barely got it out the first time," he grumbled, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"B-but," Penelope floundered, uncertain what the usually eloquent man was trying to say.

"Look, Penelope," Dave began, turning to pace the length of her office restlessly, "I'm an asshole by nature. I've got a big mouth and I like the sound of my own voice."

"That's obvious," Penelope muttered, tracking his movement with her curious eyes as she fought the clenching of her heart. "But it doesn't explain why you're here."

"I never wanted YOU to think I was an asshole. The others...I don't care as much. But you...you're different," Dave said, the words almost wrenched from his throat. Damn, he'd forgotten how damned hard apologizing was. This was the reason he didn't do it more often, wasn't it?

"Why?" Penelope asked cautiously.

"Because your opinion matters," Dave answered honestly. "More than most," he added belatedly.

"Still as clear as mud over here, SuperAgent," she replied, propping one hand on her hip as she narrowed her eyes in his direction.

"Does there have to be an explanation behind everything?" Dave asked uncomfortably, pausing to look at her, well aware of the scrutiny he was under.

"Generally," Pen nodded. "And I'd appreciate it if you'd just say what you came here to say."

Swallowing quickly, Dave met the feisty woman's bright eyes. "I'm sorry, Penelope. Genuinely sorry for treating you the way I did after you got shot. I needed the answers you had, but hurting you to get them...that was unforgiveable. But I was angry and scared and working off pure emotion. It's not an excuse, but it is an explanation."

"You?"

"Me, what?" Dave asked, noticing the shimmer of tears shining in her bottomless eyes and the sound of surprise in her halting voice. Oh hell, if he'd made her cry, forget what Morgan would do; he'd throw his own body under the bus.

"You were scared for me?" she asked faintly, using one hand to brace herself against the desk as her knees seemed to liquefy.

Eyes widening in surprise, Dave took an involuntary step toward her. "How can you ask that? Do you think I let everyone affect me like that, Penelope? Of course I was scared. No, screw scared. I was terrified! You nearly died, for Christ's sake, at the hand of some nutcase. And at the time I went at you, you were still in more danger than I can stomach thinking about. So, yeah, I was scared. I'm human, Penelope. Believe it or not, I've got all the emotions that go along with that. Even if I rarely show them."

And in those moments when she stood staring at him, listening to the earnest words flowing from his lips, Penelope Garcia began to catch the wavering shape of the man behind the larger than life persona.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Author's Note_**_: We're excited to announce our Round 3 of our Fanfic Challenge on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. The **Dealer's Choice August Challenge** is a great way to stretch your writing muscles! Please see the forum for further details. We'd love to have you! And please visit the forum to read our latest interviews with the simply amazing **peagoose 6, Sangreal7, and AliceBB!** And please join our newest discussion threads, **"What's on Your Bookshelf"** where readers tell us about the published books and authors that inspire them, **"The Art of the Well-Crafted** **Author's Note...To Write or Not To Write", **and finally, **"What Fuels Our Drive to Write?"**. Please drop by and check them out. And lastly, please keep our fellow authors, **Angel N Darkness** and **Darcie91 **within your prayers. Both ladies have been in serious accidents and have separate discussion threads where readers and authors alike may leave their best wishes! That's all for this time folks! Thanks to all who have read, reviewed, favorited or alerted our stories. We continue to appreciate each one of you!_

**The Maddening Mayhem of Love**

**Chapter Five**

"Well, say something, damn it," Rossi said finally, his low growl attempting to cover his rising self-consciousness.

"I...you..." Pen stuttered, her normal quick mind struggling to keep up with this new and vital plethora of intense information. "You care about me," she breathed, poking a shaky, accusatory finger into his broad chest.

"You're just now getting that memo?" Dave asked incredulously, his feet gravitating into her personal bubble of space without any real thought.

"Yes, Mr. I Play All My Cards Close to the Chest, I'm JUST getting it! You acted like you hated me! Then you wouldn't speak to me, wouldn't look me in the eyes, wouldn't so much as deign a simple, 'Hello, Garcia. Eat shit and die, my sparkly technical genius!' What the heck was I supposed to think?" she asked loudly, punctuating each statement with an unconscious slap to his chest. Seriously, they were the profilers! How was she expected to read HIS mind?

"Maybe that if I had spoken to you...or worse yet, really looked at you, I'd do something like this," Dave replied in a low rumble, burying his hand in her long curly hair and pulling her unresisting body flush against his. Covering soft lips parted in shock, Dave kissed her hungrily, the frustration of the past several weeks bleeding into every moment, every movement, every silky slip of their skin.

Expertly taking advantage of her surprised gasp, his tongue split the seam of her lips, stroking his tongue sensually against hers in an erotic dance. Damn, but she tasted sweet. Innocent. Like ripe strawberries on a hot summer's day.

She could feel proof of his rising interest pressed against her stomach as his warm, capable hands cupped her rounded hips. Opening her mouth to accept his kiss, her world dissolved for a moment and the only tangible consistencies were the feel of his lips sliding against hers and the warm press of his hands, keeping her upright. He tasted like spice and sin and all the wonderfully carnal delights she'd missed for endless months. And, God, the man lived up to his reputation. She'd never experienced an embrace so acutely vibrant in her life.

Moaning softly as his mouth parted from hers and warm lips dragged across her cheek to gently nibble at the sensitive skin just below her earlobe, she shivered. "I've been looking at you, Penelope. You just mistook desire for anger," he whispered against her ear before covering her lips again for a breathtaking kiss.

Long minutes later when the need for oxygen overwhelmed his need for her lips, Dave finally raised his head, resting his forehead against hers. "Damn, I did things out of order again," he mumbled, searching her flushed face for signs of anger. Finding none, he relaxed slightly and kept her loosely enfolded in his arms.

"What?" Penelope asked blankly, idly realizing that she was completely at a loss for words for a change.

"Traditionally, you get a free meal at an expensive restaurant before I steal a first kiss," Dave explained with a gentle smile, his fingers sweeping against her waist.

"Not based on my extensive research," Pen snorted, reaching out a blind hand to pat one of her many computers. "Ethel never lies and based on her calculations, seventy-three percent of the time, you'd have already had my bra off."

"God, Reid's been teaching you about statistics, hasn't he?" Dave groaned, leaning his forehead down against hers. "You guys all really need to chip in and buy that guy a girlfriend. Hell, I'll even foot the bill."

"Reid did nothing. Your record is well documented when you know what information you're looking for," Pen grinned, letting her momentary joy sweep through her.

"You investigated me?" Dave chuckled, raising an eyebrow as he stared down into twinkling eyes.

"You investigated me first," Penelope countered, her eyebrows arching.

"By interrogating you, not researching you," Dave denied, shaking his head.

"Can I help it if you aren't as resourceful as I am?" she asked, offering him a dazzling smile that seemed to spread across her entire face.

"I suppose not," Dave shrugged. "Well, did that idiot box," he asked, nodding toward the computer her hand rested on, "tell you anything interesting about me?"

"First, don't call my baby an idiot. You'll hurt her feelings and she'll be forced to do some less than savory things to your many bank accounts," Penelope informed him tartly. "Second, besides the fact that you're a very rich man with two lucrative careers, I learned that up until now, evidently, you've had lousy taste in women. But," she smiled as his arms tightened around her waist, "it appears you've seen the error of your ways in your advanced years."

"Better late than never, right?" he asked, lips twitching with amusement.

Cocking her head, Penelope arched a well defined brow. "You know I'm not exactly known for being a statuesque sophisticate, right?"

Mimicking her pose, Dave shrugged as he declared easily, "Barbie got boring."

"And I'm never gonna just stand there and take your crap," she warned, her cheeks flushing a charming crimson hue as excitement threatened to overwhelm her.

"I'd be disappointed if you did," Rossi retorted, his heart softening as the delightful woman that had captured his initial interest slowly re-emerged.

"And," Pen drawled, fingering his simple navy blue tie with her fuchsia-painted nail, "we're seriously going to have to talk about your wardrobe."

"Now you're approaching a line in the sand," Dave warned, pinching her curvaceous rump playfully as he pulled her closer.

"I guess I could learn to live with the tie," Pen said with a roll of her eyes.

"I'm glad to hear that," Dave chuckled, feeling lighthearted for the first time in more years than he cared to think about. "We could talk about the rest of my garment choices later. Maybe over dinner?" Dave suggested with a wink.

And with a happy smile, something that hadn't crossed her lips in weeks, Garcia nodded. "You, Agent Delicious, have yourself a date."

No, he thought to himself as he sealed his lips to hers once again, he had more than just a simple date. He had a chance with a woman that would completely change every facet of his life.

And damn…he was looking forward to those changes.

_**FINIS**_


End file.
